The Woes of Observation
by WashingWater
Summary: Jo saves the damsel in distress, and Henry doesn't understand why he is part of the problem. A light hearted moment between Henry and Jo.


_A/N: Still continuing the previous story, but figured I would mix things up for myself. The other story, snowflake/End of Winter is a bit bleak, so I will be going back and forth between using a prompt for the 30 day to make a chapter there and then random stand-alone stories. _  
><em>It's a day late, but maybe I can do a double day sometime in the next week to make up for it. :)<br>This doesn't really fit the "look" prompt but I figured "observation" was near enough to make it fly._

There was a bustling crowd today, typical of Penn Station. The jostling of opposing forces, one trying to leave the station and the other desperately surging forward in an attempt to not miss their departures.

Jo amusedly watched the interaction happening just on the other side of the bustling crowd. Sipping her coffee, she hid her smile and the amused chuckle that threatened to become an outburst of laughter. She could never decide if Henry deliberately flirted in this manner or if he simply always interacted with women that he found attractive by trying to impress them with his observation skills. Sometimes this unspoken complement, which was his intense undivided attention, would be positively received and other times, not so much. It was interesting that this… skill of his could just as easily woo as make the target of his attentions shift their feet nervously and while their eyes searched the room, on an instinctual level, trying to find their best avenues of exit.

The current focus of Henry's creep-charm shared features that Jo was starting to identify as his "type." Rosy red lipstick, blond medium length hair, heart shaped face, and a lithe build. She could tell without even hearing the conversation that Henry was coming off more creeper than charmer.

_Ah… There it is. The shifting feet, the darting eyes, and the final touch- the unconscious press of her hand to the side of her neck. Oh Henry, you are so observant yet you never seem to learn to tone this part of your approach down. I really should rescue her. From the looks of it, his explanations for observation are going from bad to worse._

With a smile on her lips, Jo started her weave through the bustling crowd towards Henry, consciously making an effort to not spill the two coffees she carried.

_I wonder who needs more saving in this situation, "the damsel in distress" or that poor awkward man as he tries to explain his observation of keen acumen. _A pause to her inner monologue turned to being miffed at her unconscious use of terms more common to Henry, she made a self-correction: _Acumen, his words, not mine._

"You see, I've been watching you walk towards the teller and then return to look over the departing train board several times. Specifically, you have been considering the trains departing to Chicago, but you..." his explanation came to an abrupt halt as Martinez's shoulder bumped into his.

_Really_, she reasons, _I could have called out to him, but it is far more fun to disrupt the racing thoughts, that you know he has, when he realizes the train wreck waiting to happen due entirely to his Sherlock Holmes impersonation._

"Hey, Henry, here's your cup of coffee." She lifts the paper cup and swirls the coffee as she proffers it to Henry. He was still visibly trying to reacquire the thread of thought he had left off on. Taking mercy on him, she fills the conversational void she just created, "it isn't the best, but I wouldn't argue about it since we both really need this caffeine."

Turning to face the young woman who looked unsure if she should make an escape, Jo ask, "I'm sorry…," a pause waiting for a name. First looking at the young woman, then at Henry with a raised eyebrow.

"Elizabeth," he supplied.

The woman turned white as a sheet.

Martinez sighed and gave a slight eye roll in Henry's direction _She_ o_bviously didn't __**tell**__**you**__ her name. Sometimes... you're really bad at digging yourself out of a hole!_

"Sorry if _my_ _partner_ attempted to talk your ear off," a slight flash of the badge at her hip, an apologetic smile on her lips, and a vague gesture towards Henry. "He's been a bit sleep deprived due to our current case. I am sorry, Elizabeth, but we should get going and meet with some people here who claim to have information pertinent to our investigation."

It was typically pretty easy for Jo to set people back at ease after Henry's chronic oversharing, of their information - not his. He really must have took it a step further today. Elizabeth didn't need more than the smallest hint that she had a gift wrapped escape route and she was ready to bolt.

"Oh, really?" Her question coming out like a squeeze toy: high pitched and lacking air. "That isn't a problem at all! I also really must be going. My train will no doubt leave without me at this rate!" Hardly a nod to the pleasantries necessary for graciously leaving a conversation, and she was off. She tucked her purse tightly under an arm and moved towards the train platforms and then, in what seemed a moment of hesitation, quickly changed direction and headed towards the main entrance.

Jo observed Henry as he watched her walk away. The customary tilt to his head, creased brows, and pursed lips easily displaying his puzzlement cause by a situation that didn't wholly make sense to him.

"Jo, isn't it strange that she first claimed she had a train she needed to catch and then is now leaving the station?"

Jo looked at Henry, then the retreating form of Elizabeth. "Maybe she wants to purchase something before she leaves on her train."

"But, she had tickets to travel at 5 p.m. on the line to Boston, and it is only just four in the afternoon."

"And how did you happen to know that she had a ticket for Boston? I wouldn't have expected her to tell a stranger about her plans." Silently thinking to herself, _least of all "Mister Observant, Not Observant" over here._

"She was holding her ticket in her hand, her name was clearly visible, and I could see the departure time and the first letter of the destination, obviously it was Boston. She was debating between taking the train to her home in Boston or to visit her son in Chicago. She put him up for adoption…"

"Wait. Wait. Wait. Back up a second. What part of that situation would make you think it wasn't obvious why she might be leaving the station?"

A pause. "No. She clearly concluded her business in New York and whether she leaves for Chicago or Boston, her planned modes of transportation still reside here. It doesn't make any sense that she would leave without first acquiring a ticket to Chicago or simply waiting for the train she already had purchased tickets for."

"Really, Henry? There isn't one reason, one _person,_ that might give her pause about waiting at the train station for _either_ train?" A pregnant pause. "It's you, Henry! You're the reason…"

A huff, "that is absolutely ridiculous Detective Martinez. Why should I be the reason for such erratic behavior?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you come off a bit strong, maybe even a bit creepy?" She raised an eyebrow and turned her face to look sidelong at Henry, challenging him to argue to the contrary. Holding the coffee out to him once again, "You really need to work on toning down your, 'Hello, my name is Henry Morgan, let me tell you ten things about yourself that you wouldn't tell the friend standing next to you.' One of these times you are going to get punched, slapped, or both."

Taking the coffee in hand at last, Henry brought his off hand to his face, rubbing his temple with his thump and brushing his fingers over his eyebrows as a sheepish half smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I can't say it would be the first time. I was merely starting a conversation in the hopes of helping Elizabeth decide what to do. It would be no different than opening a conversation with the weather, complimenting someone's hair, or indicating an appreciation for their shirt," a coffee cup gesture towards Martinez's blouse.

"Not helping yourself," Jo moved a hand in front of his gaze, "eyes up here buddy." Not bothering to watch for Henry's reaction, she turned and started walking them both towards the ticket counters to locate the teller they were going to meet. Hand gesturing above her shoulder, "just admit it, Henry. You were being a bit of a creep. Maybe someday you will learn to put a filter on what you tell people about themselves before _they, _emphasis on they, even give you their name."

Mumbling primarily to himself, "isn't there a saying about teaching an old dog new tricks?"

"Did you just call yourself _old_ and, or, are you implying you can't _learn_ to filter yourself?"

"Just a turn of phrase, Detective Martinez, I assure you…"

With a sigh Henry tasted his coffee, Jo was right, it was hardly palatable. Tilting his head back he drained the cup with determination. Best to get his faculties in order before Jo committed the perfect crime, one where a dead body could never be found.


End file.
